Chapter 31 Shade
Shade
Darkness crept over my fingertips, seeping below my nails and up over the first knuckle.
I examined my hands closely. The swirling pattern on my skin was subtle, but strangely familiar, ringing in the back of my mind with something I almost recognized.
Almost.
My muddy mind was slowly clearing, but details still refused to be recalled.
Frustration was my constant companion.
As my anger mounted, the cell around me darkened, and that curious darkness began to spread. It inched, slowly, past my first knuckle and onto the second, rippling and slipping like a drop of ink in a puddle of water.
I curled my fingers into a fist and then stretched them flat again. I scrubbed my hands over my dirty trousers. The color remained.
I began to experiment.
I thought of Ginger, her flowing auburn hair, the delicate posture of her shoulders, the way she glared at me so beautifully.
The darkness receded slowly, lightening a fraction and shrinking back to the first knuckle.
The cell brightened a bit as though a lantern had been lit far in the distance. I looked around—no lanterns.
A hesitant smile lifted the corner of my mouth. A memory threatened to slip free from the chains of my mind, but I couldn’t quite coax it to the forefront.
It would come eventually.
I thought of Ginger’s accident next. The fear I felt when I saw her unconscious, the sluggish thumping of her damaged heart.
Darkness spread like wildfire, drenching my hands all the way to the wrist. Cloying shadows surrounded me like an old friend.
Surprisingly, I could see just fine, the shadows did not impact my vision in the slightest. I might have been able to see better, really.
A conundrum.
I took a few deep breaths to slow my heart rate and regulate my emotions. I consciously focused on driving that ink back to my fingertips.
It obeyed.
I squinted my eyes and strained even harder.
The darkness vanished almost entirely, leaving the faintest trace at the very tips.
Satisfaction warmed my chest.
It was just as I had suspected.
The shadows were mine to wield.
The shadows belonged to me.
Hours trickled away as I called the darkness to heel, forced it to obey my commands, wrangled it into submission.
It was a strain. My eyes drooped, begging for rest that I could not give them.
The shadows did not obey entirely, but they did bend to my urging.
A small wisp of inky blackness shooed a curious mouse away before it could get too close. I hadn’t even had to consciously think about that one, it happened reflexively.
My muscles ached with the effort, my fingers moving slowly as though half frozen.
I persisted.
I grew weaker as the morning approached, and the shadows grew more stubborn. It was harder to coax them—they were more malleable beneath the shelter of night.
Only after the orange glow of the rising dual suns finally began to crest the horizon and seep into the dungeon’s tiny window did folk arrive.
I expected Tommins, and that annoying human he always had with him to return for more ridiculous questioning.
My murder ideas hadn’t vanished entirely—if they pissed me off well enough, I could fucking extinguish them.
But they weren’t alone.
I smiled. Ginger was here.
I could sense her approach more thoroughly than ever before—it was as though a wandering piece of my soul had reunited with the whole.
Her strong heartbeat was a beautiful melody. She walked with more vigor. She was obviously feeling better.
I basked in the sweet relief of that thought. My wife was strong. Resilient.
I could ask for nothing more in a partner. She was a goddess through and through.
The folk struggled to cram their bodies into the small space outside of my cell.
There were seven of them—Tommins and his human sidekick Linc, my Ginger, the two vampire mates, the big orc, and the green witch who liked to glare a lot.
My excitement at seeing Ginger was clouded by apprehension.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I drawled as I rose to my feet and tucked my hands behind my back.
Instinctively, I didn’t want them seeing the evidence of my shadow practice on my hands. That was a secret I didn’t wish to share just yet—not until I had figured it out thoroughly myself.
I didn’t need to give them any more reason to fear me. To hate me.
To try to keep me locked up.
“Hello, Shade,” Ginger said, though she didn’t step forward—she remained in line with her friends.
“Lovely to see you, Ginger. You are looking as radiant as ever.”
She flushed, and her cheek twitched, but she didn’t dignify my compliment with a response. “We are here to talk to you,” she said.
I lifted my brows. “More talking? My, you folk have a lot of questions.” I let my eyes drift over the group. I noted their tight expressions, their fidgeting hands, the way the human rested his fingers over the key ring hooked through a loop in his trousers.
I pulled my eyes away from the keys so they wouldn’t notice me staring, but the gears in my mind began to turn.
What if I could convince the shadows to retrieve the key for me? Was that even possible?
Could I escape and disappear into the night without having to harm anyone Ginger cared about?
Could I convince her to come with me?
I could always steal her—force her to come, kicking and screaming. But what I wanted to steal most was her heart, not her freedom to choose, and not her peace of mind.
Perhaps I could convince the idiots to free me. That I was harmless, and this was all a misunderstanding.
I had no knowledge of the King they spoke of. No memories. Not even a hint of a recollection had surfaced. I wasn’t sure if the memories were there, deeply buried, or if they never existed in the first place.
Ginger cleared her throat.
My eyes flitted to her face. She was looking at me expectantly.
“What would you like to know?” I asked with a sigh.
The green witch stepped forward and curled her fingers around the bars. The orc tensed, gritted his teeth, but he didn’t stop her.
I fought a wry smile. She was a brave little woman, and that made him nervous. But he let her make her own choices.
I respected that.
The witch stood her ground, examining me closely. Her eyes dragged from the top of my head, past my filthy clothing, down to my bare feet.
I had the strangest urge to shiver, to fidget, but I resisted. Her knowing gaze unnerved me.
It was as though she knew my mind better than I did.
The witches in this town were a force to be reckoned with.
An impressive power radiated from her. If I paid attention, I could feel magic radiating from all folk, but I didn’t have to try with her.
Her presence demanded to be noticed. Her magic was loud. Strong.
It called to me.
It felt familiar, somehow.
I tilted my head, watching her as she watched me.
A tense silence thickened the air in the dank room, but nobody broke it. They were content to let the witch make the rules.
I remained still.
Knuckles popped, breath held, and clothing rustled from the nervous folk standing back by the stairs, but still the witch watched me.
After endless moments, she uncurled her fingers from the bars and stuck one of her hands through the gap. The orc took one step forward, clearly wanting to pull her back. “Kizzi,” he warned.
“Trust me,” she said. “He won’t harm me. Will you, Shade?” She dragged my name out almost mockingly.
“I have not decided yet,” I threatened. I was wary of the witches.
Especially after what the old one had done to me.
I still couldn't remember how I ended up in the woods that night.
But whether it was because of the crone, or merely time working in my favor, my memories were now sorting themselves out.
Kizzi wiggled her fingers invitingly. “You won’t. Come on. Just take my hand.”
“Why?” I asked.
Mentally, I begged the shadows to recede from my hands, to hide themselves so this witch could not find them and take them from me.
“I just want to see something.” She raised her brows. “Unless you’re scared of little ol’ me. I promise I won't bite. I leave that to the vampires over there.” She tossed her head in the direction of her friends.
My cheek twitched. “As you wish. If you harm me, I will—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” the orc warned. He popped his knuckles in obvious threat.
The leader remained curiously quiet, content to simply watch the scene unfolding in front of him. I still didn't trust the gryphon, either.
I nodded once, then stepped to the bars.
The witch smelled even more magical up close—her aura made my eyes water. I had the strangest urge to incline my head. No wonder the dragons obeyed this one—her magic was potent.
After a deep breath, I let my hands fall from behind my back down by my sides, and then I lifted one into her range.
She met my eyes as she snatched my hand and curled her fingers around my palm.
Her fingers were small, but surprisingly sure. They didn’t tremble.
Green eyes bore into mine as if glimpsing my very soul. I furrowed my brows and glared back.
Unease shivered down my spine.
She broke my stare and dropped her eyes to my hand, where my fingers curled loosely, their weight supported by her grasp.
Thankfully, the shadows had obeyed, leaving only small smudges that could be explained away as dirt from the dungeon.
She squinted.
“What do you think, Kiz?” the blue-haired vampire asked. She was leaning forward, raising on her toes to try to get a better look, but her mate held her back with a steady hand on her shoulder.
Smart man, protecting his beloved.
Kizzi brought her other hand up, slipping it between the bars to clutch my hand in both of hers. “I don’t—” She dropped off mid-sentence, letting her eyes fall shut.
A memory stabbed at the back of my mind, threatening to split me in two me as it tore free. I shook my head to relieve the tension.
The pain increased, intensified until it could not be ignored.
A grimace tugged at my face.
“What’s happening? Are you hurting him?” Ginger asked.
“Kizzi—”
“Hang on! There’s something—”
My mind fractured, splitting into a million pieces and sending agony skittering throughout my entire being. I was burning. My bones were crumbling. My skin was peeling from my muscles, every ligament snapping one by one.
Wetness dripped down my nose, out of my ears, the corners of my eyes.
It was all overshadowed by the blinding pain in my skull.
My vision narrowed to a closing tunnel, and then darkness overtook my sight entirely, sweeping me under.
I shouted in pain, but I could not escape. My muscles were locked solid, held captive by the small green witch.
The pain, impossibly, intensified. I screamed in agony, begging the witch to free me, to release me from the torment.
“Are you killing him?” someone shouted.
“Kizziah!”
My eyes rolled back in my head. Liquid continued to pour down my face.
“His blood is gold!”
“I see it!”
“What the fuck?”
My ears rang, sound slowly drowning out until all I could feel, hear, see was my own suffering, my own unraveling.
The witch released me and leapt backwards as though I had scalded her—as though she wasn't the one dismantling me piece by piece.
The dungeon tilted and the ground swept up to meet me as I crashed onto my back. I couldn’t even feel the pain of the impact.
But the agony was slowly clearing.
As my ears returned to working, words filtered in.
Everyone was screaming.
Kizzi’s voice rang out above the others. “It’s Erebus!”
“What?!”
“That’s impossible!”
“The Old God?!”
“Yes!”
“AHHH!”
“The Old Gods have returned!”